


white dandelions

by gabriphales



Series: gomens drabble hell [121]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Bathing/Washing, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Praise Kink, theres hints of agere crowley if u squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28264314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: aziraphale cleans crowley up after sex (gratuitously fluffy aftercare, implied sub!crowley)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: gomens drabble hell [121]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664713
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	white dandelions

**Author's Note:**

> this is a christmas/anniversary gift for my partner !! i love them v v much they're the blessing of my life and my favorite crowley kinnie

“what are you thinking about, my dear?” aziraphale asks, threading his fingers through the tangled streams of crowley’s curls. his hair always gets mussed up during sex, especially when he's on his back, head curving with the arch of his spine, twisting back and forth against his pillow. aziraphale finds it more endearing than he ought to, considering how crowley scowls and wriggles away whenever he comments on it. 

“mmrmph,” crowley sighs, turning on his side, and yawning without another word. aziraphale giggles quietly, beneath a layer of hush in order to maintain the gentle atmosphere. he pets at crowley’s leg, stroking up and down the length of his calf. with a hand settling on his knee, he finally asks. “i suppose you're in no state to hold a conversation, are you?”

crowley grumbles again, shaking his head, his pretty eyes flickering shut. aziraphale resists the urge to tickle at the back of his knee, knowing such mischief would be sure to provoke a few choice words from crowley. instead, he pats his thigh with enough force to get his attention, and says, “would you like me to draw you a bath, love?”

crowley nods, looking as excited as is possible for a demon tip-toeing around the steep cliff of dozing off to sleep. aziraphale laughs again, curving an arm under his knees, and another around his shoulders. he lifts him effortlessly, showcasing a celestial strength that crowley finds all too irresistible. he’d say something cheeky and smart about it, something to make aziraphale flush that pretty camellia red he likes so much, were he any less exhausted. 

“up we go, that's a doll.” aziraphale preens him with praise, fluttering bits of flattery that warm crowley from the inside like a hot oil lamp. were he to look inside himself right now, he’d surely be glowing an orange gold light, the gentle flame of being pleasantly content. 

the walk to the bathroom is no less engorged with stacks upon stacks of doting. aziraphale kisses his temples, pinches at his cheek, and tells him what a good little boy he's being, just letting himself be looked after like this. 

“you did so well for me, you know.” aziraphale speaks the words like a treasured promise, holding the syllables tenderly between his teeth, and letting them take flight like baby birds from a nest. “i’m so proud of you. you did everything i asked you to, took it all like a good boy, such a _sweet_ thing you are.”

“easy on the excess, angel.” crowley chuckles weakly, his throat sore and voice underused from the evening's activities. “d’you want me to miracle the water?”

aziraphale pushes the bathroom door open, still holding crowley without a hint of struggle. “of course not, let me handle all that, yes? all you have to do is rest and relax.”

he snaps his fingers, and the faucet starts running. steaming hot water fills the tub, the warm air wafting up like the ghosts of kind memories, mesmerizing crowley’s tired mind. aziraphale dips his fingers in, testing the temperature, and smiling to himself, looking proud. 

“alright, in we go, that's a nice pet.” he lowers crowley down, hesitating to check for any signs of a flinch or falter from the demon. when no such thing occurs, he lets crowley be, poking his nose with a wiggly, wet finger, and watching him squirm away.

“warm enough for you?” aziraphale asks. “is there anything else you need?”

“yes, and - only if it's not too much trouble,” crowley hesitates, chewing at his lip like a nervous child. 

“never too much for me, little love.” aziraphale tells him, his voice flooding through crowley’s body, tracing over his shoulders as they relax and untense, and down to his spine when he leans back.

“c’ld you - my hair?” crowley stumbles through what he wants to say, looking awfully shy, adorable for such a charming, impish devil. who would believe he’d been the serpent of eden, leader of mankind to the very first sin. now he's here, with his angel at his side, kindly asking to have his hair shampooed. of course, he’ll receive as much as he gives. aziraphale makes sure of that.

he soaps up crowley’s curls with firm, broad hands, fingers intertwining with wet ringlets. the shampoo smells sweet, vaguely like strawberries, and crowley breathes in the artificial smell until his lungs ache from it. his eyes close, mouth perched in a tiny smile, one he doesn't even realize he's showing. aziraphale kisses at the edge of his lips, cupping water in his palms, and soothing it over crowley’s scalp, washing the shampoo out.

by the time the tub empties, and aziraphale can manage the grand feat of convincing crowley to stand, he fluffs his hair with a soft, white towel. crowley prefers using them over the black ones, says they remind him of the angel’s wings, they make him feel safe, protected.

though he's standing on wobbly legs, a thin, shaky frame against aziraphale’s, he’s sleepy in that warm, blurry outlines sort of way. everything seems just a little bit kinder, all their edges smoothed out. aziraphale can’t resist carrying him back to bed, tucking the covers over him once he refuses to put on pajamas. 

“you’ll be cold all night, you know.” aziraphale insists, still doing his best to goad him.

crowley shakes his head, steadfast in his demands. “not if you sleep next to me.”

and aziraphale pauses, slipping into bed beside him, and letting crowley nuzzle up into his chest.

“you're perfectly right, darling.” he murmurs, cradling him with a hand against the back of his head. secure, sheltered from the outside world. guarded by his angel. “perfectly right, as always.”

**Author's Note:**

> i like to ramble about random shit here so just know i have the max and ruby theme song stuck in my head as im writing this. i think thats an important fact u all should know. also i havent slept at all lol


End file.
